


The Warmth of Your Touch

by Pennstram



Series: This world our own (SPN Advent Calendar 2020) [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fallen Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Falling Castiel, M/M, Pre-Episode: s05e04 The End, SPNAdventCalendar2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:53:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28126434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennstram/pseuds/Pennstram
Summary: It was nights like these that he’d stare at the ceiling with empty liquor bottles and emptier eyes.The heat of August brought Castiel back to him.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: This world our own (SPN Advent Calendar 2020) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041642
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	The Warmth of Your Touch

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually surprised I haven't gotten super dark with these yet.   
> Anyway: Day three: Motels

That first year was hard. Dean wasn’t ashamed to admit as much. The Sam shaped void coming between them. It was worse than hard. He’d turn around to ask a question but the empty room was his only answer. 

March rolled into April and Dean found himself alone more often than not. Castiel popped in when he could, but the tension would always bubble over. Words they’d both regret the next day thrown at each other before he’d disappear again. He claimed it was to find a way to save Sam. To stop the virus. Dean believed Castiel was just getting tired of him too. 

The silence grated on him. Each motel room just like the last. Cold, empty, silent… deafening. Dean didn’t think he’d miss casual interactions with other people so much. But as May burned away into June and the virus started taking a toll, it hit him. 

He was lonely. It was a completely ridiculous thought, but he was. Those he came across who were still human didn’t quite trust him. Which was fair, he didn’t trust them either. Yet every new person he saw, he longed for company. He longed to banter with his brother. He longed to have a beer with Bobby and talk strategy with Ellen and Jo. 

He wanted— but it’d been almost two months since Castiel had last come to see him. He wondered, late at night in an old dusty motel room, what kept him away. He’d tell himself it didn’t matter. He’d tell himself if he needed to know he would. 

Still he wondered. And he worried. What if something had happened? What if Castiel was hurt? (Could angels really get hurt?) What if he was dead? (God he longed to know he was okay.) 

It was nights like these that he’d stare at the ceiling with empty liquor bottles and emptier eyes. 

The heat of August brought Castiel back to him. They didn’t speak for the first week, but each time their eyes met, more of the hurt bled through. The ache in his chest lessened every night when Cas laid on the other bed. A silent promise he’d stay. That he wouldn’t leave Dean alone again. 

His stomach churned every morning when he’d wake to find Cas curled under the moth eaten blankets asleep. Like the constant moving tide, he didn’t know how to feel. Content that Castiel was there? Or fearful that the angel didn’t seem so angelic anymore. 

It all came to an abrupt stop mid October at a motel in Indiana. Dean had been watching. Silently from the background, suspiciously out of his peripherals. Every day Cas grew weaker. Every night he slept more, every day he ate more. His hands trembled when they faced a small group of Croats. 

His breath came out shaky when his grace fizzled and popped while healing a gash on Dean’s arm. The hunter had looked away. Had pretended he hadn’t seen. 

When Cas couldn’t heal a small nick he’d gotten from sharpening his knife, he’d looked so stricken. His blue eyes bright with gathering tears as he stared at Dean. It’d been at that moment that Dean Winchester understood. He’d moved from the bed (the only one still usable) and pulled Cas to his chest. 

His gaze was distant as he tucked Cas’s head under his chin and let the fallen Angel break in his arms. He told him it’d be okay. That they’d fix everything. That this wasn’t the end. 

They both knew he was lying. But the embrace was warm and comforting and outside the air was growing cold. For now, they’d let themselves pretend. 

December brought heavy snowstorms. 

“It’s cold.” Dean looked up briefly from where he was cleaning his gun at the tiny table. Cas was huddled under the trench coat he barely wore anymore and the threadbare blanket they’d picked up three states back. His gaze was vacant but Dean could see his body shaking. 

With a sigh he set the metal and rag down. “I know it is, Cas.” Cas jerked his head over to settle on Dean. His brow was pinched and his mouth turned down in a frown under a bright red nose. Something about the image broke Dean’s heart. Another sigh and he was raising to his feet, shrugging off his own heavy coat in the process. He dropped it in Cas’s lap before slumping onto the mattress beside him. “It isn’t much, but it should help.” He offered softly. 

Cas blinked at the dark canvas and then over at Dean. “But you will get cold now.”

“I’m more accustomed to the cold than you are.”

“But Dean--”

Dean pressed a chilled hand to Cas’s where he tried to hand the coat back. “Cas, no.” A puff of air escaped him as he ran his thumb across the underside of Cas’s wrist. “Just take it. I know you don’t want to admit it, but you aren’t an angel anymore.” Blue eyes shrouded in pain flit away to stare at the coat again. 

Reaching his other hand over, Dean pressed it against the side of Cas’s neck before continuing, voice soft, “I’m not saying it to make you feel bad. I just need you to realize you can get sick now. You can get cold, and frostbitten and you can die, Cas.” 

“So can you.” Cas retorted bitterly. Dean couldn’t help the small smile as he shook his head.

“Yes, but as I’ve said already, I’ve dealt with it before.” He brushed his thumb along the underside of Cas’s jaw before moving his hand to his back. Tugging the fallen Angel closer to himself, Dean sighed. “Once the snow lets up we’ll look for a warmer place to hole up. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a motel with a working heater still, yeah?” He could feel Cas nod ever so slightly under his chin and he let his smile slip. 

They sat like that in silence for the longest time. Dean had forced Cas into the other coat before he wrapped himself around him and draped the blanket over them both. Cas soaked up his body heat like a cat in the sun and Dean could only hope it was enough. He’d gladly give all of the warmth in his body if he could. If it meant Cas would be comfortable for at least the night. It was all his fault after all.

If it hadn’t been for him, Cas would’ve never fallen. He’d still be all righteous fury Angel. He’d still be unbroken, uncorrupted. 

“I’m sorry.”

Cas let out a small hum and tilted his head just enough to level the hunter a confused look. Dean refused to meet his eyes as he swallowed. “I’m sorry Baby’s heat stopped working. I’m sorry I can’t fix it. I’m sorry we have to live like this. A constant chain of broken down motel’s isn’t the life for an Angel, and I’m sorry.” 

“Dean.”

“I’m sorry you don’t have your Grace or wings anymore. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry I--”

“Dean!” The shout made Dean jump as Cas pulled away far enough to make Dean look at him. “It’s like you said, I’m not an Angel anymore, Dean. I’m human. A hunter now.” He brought his hands up to cup Dean’s cheeks and smiled sadly, “Like you, and this is the hunter lifestyle isn’t it? Why shouldn’t I get the whole experience just cause it’s the end of the world?” 

He knew it was a jest, but the words made him sick to his stomach. “Just cause you’re human doesn’t mean I wanted this life for you, Cas.” 

“No…” Cas agreed softly, leaning forward to press his forehead against Dean’s shoulder, his frozen nose brushing lightly against his neck. “But this is the life I got. The life we got. Honestly, as long as you’re with me, I’ll be happy to take whatever I’m given.”


End file.
